


Zone Two

by casesandcapitals



Series: DustRunner!Verse [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 07:46:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past gets dragged up in a fire fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zone Two

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thanks to by betas, Mikki and Kate, for making me work on my stories and helping me figure out new ways to say "wound" :)

It's an abandoned BL/ind warehouse from the days when the corporation tried to tame the Zones. The place has since been picked clean by Zone Runners and broken down by wind and acid rain, but the basement should still be under lock and key. Perfectly preserved.  
Poison parks the Trans Am on the side of the building, using it as a shield against the wind.  
"You're sure?" Ghoul asks, looking the decrepit building over.  
"Yeah," Poison answers, giving the building a once over as well. "I've gotten good info off this contact before, no reason to think this would be any different."  
Ghoul scowls at the mention of the green haired Wavehead. "Fine, let's go."  
They pull themselves out of the Am and slide their guns from their holsters, making their way to the front of the warehouse. Ghoul takes the right side of the door, setting his hand against the pitted wood. Poison stands on the opposite side, gun ready, and nods. Ghoul pushes the door open and Party steps inside. It's silent and dark in the warehouse. Ghoul follows close behind and they take a moment to let their eyes adjust to the darkness.  
Out of the dark looms hundreds of smashed crates with sand drifts in between the piles, making it difficult to traverse.  
"Where'd they even get the wood?" Ghoul asks himself aloud, kicking aside a broken board with nails sticking out.  
"Come on." Party strides confidently into the forest of crates, making his way to the back wall. Ghoul creeps after him, gun held out low in front of him, ready to be raised at a moments notice.  
The wind whistles through the cracks in the walls, bringing more dust inside. The piles of broken boards creaked ominously as they pass, aware of intruders in their wooden graveyard.  
"Here," Party mutters, stopping in front of a metal door. The surface is littered with scratches and blast marks, past attempts to open the door. Party holsters his gun and pulls a tiny piece of silver metal from his pocket. There's a small slit in the door next to the handle, so he slides the piece in smoothly.  
A light at the top of the door flashes green and the door unclicks.  
There's a moment of silence before Ghoul mutters "Well, that was easy."  
An alarm beings blaring before he can finish the sentence.  
"Fuck!" Poison shouts.  
"Damn it, Party!" Ghoul yells at him. He kicks the door open the rest of the way and they scramble through. The staircase is steep but they throw themselves down it. The basement is sterile and bright in the suddenly activated lights. There are no crates in here, instead there are shelves holding metal boxes six inches across, a foot and a half deep.  
Ghoul rushes to grab a few boxes, cradling them in one arm while holding his gun out with the other. Party copies him. They make several frantic trips between the basement and the Trans Am, tossing the boxes in the backseat before running back in for more.  
"There's only a few more," Ghoul yells as he reaches the Am. "Start the car, I'll get 'em!"  
Party ducks into the driver's seat as Ghoul runs back into the warehouse. He can hear his breath in his ears as he jumps down the stairs to the basement. The underground room is almost completely cleaned out now, only two more boxes sit alone at the end of a shelf. Ghoul stacks them on top of each other and hoists them up under his left arm.

Fun Ghoul doesn’t realize, when he gets to the top of the stairs again, that the alarm has stopped sounding. He’s halfway through the warehouse when a blast of white light soars over his shoulder. He swears and dodges aside, falling behind a stack of broken crates. Setting the metal boxes on the dirty wooden floor, Ghoul grips his gun tighter and peeks over a crate. A ray of light shoots past him and explodes into a ball of flames against a box opposite him.  
"Shit," he mutters to himself. He listens for a moment, hearing a fight taking place outside, which means Party is still on his feet, and the near silent padding of boots heading his way. Ghoul waits until they're almost upon him before he jumps to his feet and starts firing.  
There are two Dracs closing in on him, using the piles of crates for cover. The main door is open, light streaming in, and Ghoul can see more Dracs outside. His quick glance outside costs him as a blast of white light skims his upper arm. Ghoul swears and levels his gun, shooting the Drac that hit him in the chest. The white clad body falls with a groan but the second Drac doesn't stop to check on his companion. Ghoul rushes to the side, leading the Drac down a small pathway between towering piles of broken boxes. Ghoul sees a crate open near the floor and ducks into it, waiting with bated breath, trying to ignore the burning pain from his wound. He watches the Drac's legs creep past his hideout, then jumps to his feet. The Drac spins around, getting one last glance at Ghoul before he's shot in the head and falls to the floor, dead.  
Ghoul glances around quickly to make sure there are no other Dracs nearby, then kneels on the dirty wooden floor, clutching his arm. There’s blood soaking into his clothes, all down the left side of his body.  
“Fuck. Fuck.” Ghoul holsters his gun and tries to stem the bleeding. His hand is immediately covered in blood.  
“Ghoul?”  
He looks in the direction of Party’s voice but doesn’t answer. His teeth are clenched in pain, pressing his fingers into the deep gouge.  
“Fun Ghoul!”  
Party’s voice is razor sharp now and Ghoul can hear his frantic footsteps as he searches for him.  
“Here,” he manages to grunt out.  
The footsteps skid to a halt for a split second, then Ghoul hears them change direction and grow louder. Party’s red hair pops into view around a crate a moment later.  
“Fun Ghoul?” he asks loudly.  
“Hey,” Ghoul mutters.  
“Fuck, are you okay?” Party rushes over and kneels next to him.  
“Yeah, yeah. Just my arm,” Ghoul cringes, pulling his fingers away from the burnt, bloody wound.  
“Damn it, Ghoulie,” Party says in a tight voice, pressing his own hand over the injury. “There was blood and I couldn’t find you and-”  
Fun Ghoul has to swallow passed the lump in his throat at the sound of Party calling him by that nickname. No one else gets to call him that....  
“It’s fine.”  
“Here, let me-” Party pulls his bandana away from his neck and starts tying it around Ghouls arm.  
“It’s not that bad,” Ghoul muttered.  
“You’re practically bleeding out, Ghoulie,” Party answers in a soft voice.  
“Yeah.” Ghoul shifts uncomfortably, the heat from Party’s fingers on his skin leaving tracks that feel scorching.  
Poison finishes tying the bandana off but leaves his hands on Ghoul’s arm. They’re silent for a while, then Party swallows loudly.  
“Thought I’d lost you for a moment,” he says, chuckling weakly.  
Ghoul watches his eyelids flutter and his hands shake. He scowls.  
“You didn’t.”  
Party finally looks up at him and smiles.  
“And if you had, you would’ve been fine without me.”  
Now it’s Party’s turn to scowl. “Why would you say that?”  
Ghoul shrugs, then winces at the pain that shoots through his arm. He drops his eyes.  
“I’m not so important to you that-”  
He’s cut off by Party pressing his lips against his mouth. Ghoul freezes, then immediately melts into the kiss, reaching up with his right hand to grab Party’s hair. He slips his tongue out to gently brush against Party’s lips. Party opens up and meets him, making Ghoul sigh.  
The memory of their first kiss is thick in Ghoul’s mind, the heat and the passion.  
He pushes Party away roughly.  
“Wha-?” Party starts, but Ghoul cuts his off.  
“Don’t. Just don’t, okay?” Ghoul staggers to his feet and looks down at Party on the floor. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”  
“Ghoulie?”  
“Don’t.”  
They stare at each other for a long time. Ghoul can practically see the memories flashing through Party’s head. Their first time, the betrayal, the fight. Eventually Party lowers his eyes to the floor.  
“Let’s go,” Ghoul says roughly. “Before anymore Dracs show up.”


End file.
